Runescape: The story
by Lost soul
Summary: Yes, the history is a bit altered, but it's really, basically Zamorak is gaining supporters and it's up the the heroic Lisa to stop them and allow for Runescape to remain in existance. Yeah, good vs. evil.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Yes, I know this isn't the real background to Runescape. I spent half a day researching it and decided that it would be really, much, much, MUCH easier if I sort of created my own history for Runescape. The plot is a lot less involved. And the Runescape that I will be discussing is the non-members world. So, I figure I'd say that right now. Just...please...read with an open mind. Thanks._

**Prologue**

Saradomin was a wizard during a difficult time. Earth was plagued by dark times, an age after the Roman Empire's hold over most of the known world had collapsed, and the world simply fell into a darkness unheard of, where knowledge and truth and light were swallowed by poverty and the horridness of human nature. Saradomin didn't like humans, but he lived among them all the same. He lived among them, and he lived among them with the dragons, and the unicorns, goblins, dwarfs, and other fantastic creatures. But, once the Roman's hold of the earth had fallen, the peaceful nature in which they had all lived alongside of each other with had gone. Humans began to burn the wizards. They began to go on quests to slay all the dragons. Goblins and dwarves became feared and hated. The society began to split; there were humans, and there were those who weren't.

So, Saradomin knew that he must make a change. He had to make a change in order to flee the horrors of the human world. The only solution he could think of was creating another world for him and the fantastic creatures of the day. So, using magic on levels unheard of, with the help of another wizard of the time, Zamorak, Saradomin created another world. He created Runescape. And into this world he poured the dragons, wizards, creature, and the culture of the time. He even created new people to live there. His creations revered him as a god. But, in truth, he was a mere wizard. And so, Runescape became its own world, separate from the horridness of the humans and their habits.

Zamorak lived here too. Others revered him as a god, too. Only, Zamorak wasn't like Saradomin. He wasn't interested in preserving the creatures, or time period, or creating a fantastic world in which everyone could live in harmony. No, Zamorak had seen the creating of Runescape as an awesome chance to seize power on a global scale. He wouldn't only be in charge of his village, but over an entire world of people. And so, Zamorak played along with the people. He began to fill the god roll. And when he found enough supporters, Zamorak unleashed his attack on Saradomin for domination over Runescape.

At first, Saradomin and his supports managed to keep Zamorak at bay, but not without loss of life. There was so much horror and bloodshed, so many things that Saradomin had tried to escape when he left earth came to the world that he had poured his heart and soul into. And when his numbers grew smaller, he knew there was only one chance to save Runescape. He must recruit the help of humans. He had to ask for help from the people he disliked. For, how else was he supposed to fight such human tactics if he didn't have humans? Saradomin created a portal between Runescape and Earth. And through this portal he brought those whom he had deemed worthy to fight the good fight against Zamorak. The humans could leave Runescape and return to earth as they pleased through designated portals.

The effort won. Saradomin had conquered Zamorak. In fact, Zamorak had been written clear out of existence in one defiant and giant battle. Runescape was safe once again. But, to make sure that evil and horror and human habits didn't win over Runescape anymore, Saradomin allowed humans to pass between his world and Earth to keep in check the balance between Runescape and Earth, to keep the balance of good and evil. And throughout time, he kept on finding new people to replace those who had passed on.

This is where the story begins. The time is the present day. The humans are normal humans. Runescape has been through peaceful times for the past thousand years or so. But, human faults are causing another battle to brew in the world that has already endured so much.

And, as always, a great story begins with a single adventure.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

I distantly heard my bedroom door creak open. And then there came the soft voice of my mother saying, "Girls, it's time to get up."

I opened my eyes, and the world was still foggy to me. The figure of my mom disappeared behind my door, and the door went to the closed position again. There was an almost pre-dawn light, illuminating my room in a soft, bluish glow. It also helped that my walls were blue. But, I groaned slightly to myself, closed my eyes, and rolled over. Pulling the covers over my head, I wished that the morning had never come, but it did, like it always did. My alarm was set, of course. My alarm had been set for 6:30 for the past, oh, four years of my life, and my mom still decided every morning to beat my alarm. I think she had some sort of unspoken contest with my alarm clock.

On cue, at 6:30, my alarm went off with its mind-numbing beeps that had long since been embedded in my head. I sighed, then reached my one hand through the warmth of the covers to venture the cold morning to find the snooze button. Ten more minutes. That's all I was asking for.

And, on cue as usual, my sister's alarm clock went off just three feet away from me. See, hers was set for 6:30 too, but my clock was a minute faster than hers. Laura, my twin sister, was a better morning person than I was. I peaked through my covers and watched as she swiftly turned off her alarm, heave a sigh and then roll off of her bed, exiting the room, leaving the door wide open.

I had a bad pet peeve. One of them was not closing my bedroom door when you left my room. I hated staring down the long hallway, only to see my mom's bedroom lights burning brightly, her already set to begin her day, drinking her tea. On this particular morning, as I summoned up the courage to take the covers off from over my head, I looked down the hallway. My mom was standing in her door frame. For a brief moment our eyes met, and she smiled and waved my direction. I gave a half-hearted finger wave, and then shut my eyes again, falling deep into my pillow. It couldn't be possible to wake up this early. It was inconceivable. My only issue with waking up in the morning is that for some strange, possessed reason, my stomach always hurt. Though no one wants to hear it, but I had serious bowl movements in the morning. And I always had to work my way around it because it would always happen right as I got to school, and either leave me wishing I had some sort of anti-vomit medicine, or my own, dear, private toilet.

I tried not to think about my stomach as I hesitantly pushed the covers down to the foot of my bed. If I thought about, it would get worse. Then again, if I didn't think about it, it would be even worse than that. Was there ever a happy balance in my life? No, not really. Giving one last glance at the clock, the red digits read 6:34. I rolled off to the left side of my bed, closest to the closet. I sat on my mattress a few moments, staring blankly at the door, trying to figure out what the heck I was staring at. And then I realized it was my closet with the assorted postcards I had bought hanging from it. I looked down to the carpet and saw a hoodie. I grabbed it and put it on. There, now I was warm and toasty.

I was just getting up and walking out of my room when Laura walked back in. I barely had the energy to make room for her at the door, so we brushed shoulders. And, Laura didn't really like people bothering her like that in the morning, so I knew I was pock-marked for death as we walked to the bus stop. She was always looking for a new reason to take out her anger problem on me.

Anyway, I went to the bathroom. The lights were seriously bright, and I could barely open them, even to squint to find my way to the toilet. But, I found my way around. On my way back to my bedroom, I stared in at my mom who was cheerfully putting on her make up. I stared for a few moments as she passed me a smile and walked into her bathroom. I turned and headed for my room. I stopped and stared at my younger sister's bedroom door. She was still sleeping. Since she was in middle school, she didn't have to wake up for another…oh…twenty minutes. I hated her for that. So, I stared at the door, hoping my gaze would erupt it into a fiery mess, but it didn't. So I gave up and headed for my nice, cozy bed. I laid down, looking at Laura, who was putting on her shirt. Due to some weird routine, Laura refrained from putting on her jeans until after she brushed her teeth, her hair, and put on her make up. On her way out of the room again, she looked at me and said, "Lisa, you better start getting ready."

Okay, I have another pet peeve: people telling me something I had to do when I already knew I had to do it.

Now Laura was pock-marked for death.

I rolled over in my bed so that my head hung over the edge and I could stare down at my carpet on the side of my bed opposite of the closet. I glanced up and down the side of my bed, searching for any signs of jeans I could wear. I found a pair of blue jeans, flared at the bottom. I groggily reached down, picked them up, and lifted them to my nose. Eh, they didn't _smell _dirty. I looked down at my pajama pants. How the hell was I supposed to get those off? Certainly, someone didn't want me to bend over and actually…_physically_…take them off, right? I sighed heavily, using my legs to take off the loose cloth that were supposed to be pants. Pretty soon, I was pantless, lying in my underwear on my bed with zero-energy to put on my jeans.

Great.

I was nude and tired. It was the start of a nightmare.

I somehow, through an act of god, pulled on my jeans. I looked around for a bra, found on, and then put it on. And then, I found a black t-shirt. Huh, how long have I had this? I had never seen it before in my life. Oh well. I put it on. It was big and comfy. Hey, today I would be punk. Ha. Ha. Punk. That's the world's biggest joke.

I scooted out of my bed, amazed at my awesome talent to get dressed while lying down. And then I managed to walk back down the hall into my mom's bathroom. It was bright as the sun, maybe brighter. My mom was just finishing up in the bathroom as I found my toothbrush and toothpaste, beginning the routine of 'personal hygiene.'

"Why is the bathroom so bright?" I mumbled.

"So I can see," my Mom replied, practically making fun the fact that I couldn't see because, for all intensive purposes, I was still sleeping.

I made some sort of grunting sound in return, putting my toothbrush in my mouth and began to brush. It was an odd sensation, but brushing my teeth was really relaxing. Well, that and I liked the taste of toothpaste. It was rather comforting.

I stopped suddenly. Great. I forgot to wash my face first. Now I had ruined the only routine I had in my day.

I quickly finished the teeth part of my morning, and quickly scrubbed my face. I looked around the bathroom for a hairbrush. I took out the ponytail I had slept with, brushed my hair of its two or three knots, then put my pony tail back in. I only put on a layer of foundation for make up, but now I was ready for the day.

Well, almost.

"Lisa!" Laura yelled from down the stairs. "Are you ready to leave?"

I ran out of the bathroom. No. That wasn't right. I didn't run. I sort of…scuffled out of the bathroom. I didn't have the energy to run. What did she mean by ready? If she meant that I was dressed and prepared to meet society on this fine Tuesday morning, then yes, I was. If she meant that I actually had everything I needed to function in society on this fine Tuesday morning, then no, I wasn't. Of course, I didn't tell Laura that. It would have only made her angrier. See, she has OCD when it came to time. And I was running late and her anger scale was already boiling near the level where we had to put 'CAUTION' tape around her. Chelsea, the younger sister, was just waking up as I rushed past her to travel down the stairs.

"Hey," I managed to her, but I doubted that she even heard me as she made it to the bathroom. She looked like me in the morning, only magnified by at least one hundred times. And her breath smelled bad, so I made an effort to really make it down the stairs in record time.

I flew past the shoe closet and grabbed some sandals. I looked into the kitchen, frantically searching for the time on the microwave or oven. I stopped dead in my tracks as I read the time.

6:51.

Laura had her backpack on. I could see that she had set my lunch on the table. My mom had her purse and keys in hand. Obviously mom was driving us, and they were both ready. I stared at Laura, and she gave me a frustrated, evil glance. If looks could kill, this would have been at least the millionth time she had killed me.

"We're going to be late," she stated calmly and angrily.

I went into the living room and threw my binders into my book bag. "Laura, we're only running a minute late." I shoved my pencil and pen on top of my books so that it would easily be accessed at my locker and so that they wouldn't be crushed under the weight of my Advanced Placement European History book.

"Yes we are."

I sighed, deciding that it would probably be better not to argue the whole thing. And then a thought came to mind. "You know what? Just go." I said, walking to the table. "My stomach is kind of hurting. I'll just catch the bus."

My mom gave me that kind of look that said she was tired of waiting and didn't really care anymore. Laura brushed past her to the garage door. "Okay, fine," my Mom said, walking behind her. "Just don't miss it because I'm not going to drive you."

"_Okay_, mom," I said, pet peeves kicking on. Duh I wasn't going to miss the bus. I still had another eight or nine minutes until I had to catch it. She gave me one last look of 'parentalness,' and then headed out the garage door. I watched the door shut, and heard the garage door open for the car to back out. The car started, and then the door shut. I was alone in the house. Or, for all intensive purposes I was alone. Chelsea had probably fallen asleep on the toilet, so I had a moment to myself.

I wasn't tired anymore. No, my body was tingling with the same excitement that I felt the first time I had done something like this. How long ago had it been? Maybe two years this past April. I didn't think of specifics as I threw my back pack into my basement. I felt bad for my History book, but didn't give it much thought. Chelsea wouldn't look there. I could cover my tracks. She wouldn't figure out my diabolical plans.

I would laugh an evil laugh later.

I entered my basement and walked down the stairs. I looked at my book bag, really feel sorry for it. But, I didn't care. There was business I wanted to take care of. My basement was really messy, as usual. There were years of children's Christmas presents down here, but I didn't care. I turned and headed for the corner where two of the three windows met in my basement. I couldn't really reach the corner thanks to the fact that my dad had put old kitchen cabinets and counter tops there. It made it a brilliant place for a portal, though. I had to climb on top of the old counter top in order to hit the wall in three distinct spots.

I watched in awe as my basement wall sort of melted away. In its place were two giant stone torches. There was an arched doorway that led to a foggy hallway. It was all made of grey stone. It was as if there was a medieval castle in my basement suddenly, but only in this particular area of my basement. I didn't need to worry about anyone seeing. Once I passed through the fog and the entrance way, I would be wisped away to another world, where I was a completely different person, and the portal would collapse into my dull, basement wall once again.

On any given morning where I couldn't open my eyes because I was so tired, Laura kept grinding my last nerve, my mom was way too perky and high off too much caffeine, and Chelsea's breath could have woken the dead, I really just needed a few minutes to myself, where this world didn't matter. This would beat the car ride to school with Laura. This would distress me in ways that not even playing guitar could do for me.

The first time I had discovered Runescape was two springs ago. It was April of eighth grade and I had been in my basement, just sitting there and reading a book I had found on the floor of junk. There had been a snapping noise. I hesitantly had turned around. It was night and I was pretty sure that my house was haunted. But, I turned to see a giant stone causeway, which had been magnificent. I was scared, yeah. I mean, who the hell wouldn't be? When a giant part of a castle appears and there's an old wise man with white hair and a white beard standing there, you just sort of want to pee your pants. But, it intrigued me.

"_My name is Saradomin_," the wise man had spoken. "_And I have chosen you_."

In an instant, I had understood. And ever since that first step through the portal, I couldn't get over how fantastic, exciting, and real Runescape really way. The trip was familiar. There was a small gust a wind, thick gray smog, and then you emerged at the other end of the portal.

I had ended up in the place that I had adopted as one of my living areas of Runescape. I slept and bathed here. It was a large house in the town called Falador, in the Kingdom of Asgarnia. It was the West Kingdom of Runescape. My appearance had changed. I had come to learn that as humans passed through the various portals, we took on different bodies here. Here, I had white hair as opposed to blonde. And it was shoulder length instead of almost half-way down my back. I was actually pretty skinny here, in contrast to my kind of meaty self back on Earth. I had green, cloth pants. I had brown boots. I had a kind of skimpy green top on to match my pants. I had an iron-plate body on over top of that. I held an iron kite-shield with my left arm. At my side was an iron scimitar. I liked my adopted body. It was one of the reasons I loved coming here to so much.

I had come out underneath the stairs of a relatively large house in Falador. I walked out from underneath the stairs, smiling as memories of my first visit washed over me. I stopped reminiscing. I decided to walk out of my house and into the world which I had come to love and hate at the same time. For a moment, I stared at the bow and arrow display on the wall. I hadn't designed the house. I had just sort of found it. But who ever had decorated this place was obviously a bit tacky. I mean, if you're already in a place where the medieval theme reigns, why remind yourself of it in your house? I decided not to think about it much. I had to get to the bank to get some money. And then I had to head to the general store in Falador to buy some sheers. I had to make some wool, and it had been something I'd been meaning to do for quite some time.

I looked down at my wrist. There, embedded in deep red ink, was a tattoo that said **32**. That signified what level I was. See, here in Runescape everyone had a level. The higher up you were meant the more things you could do and the stronger you were. If you fought or did something to up your other abilities, your level went up. Thirty-two wasn't a bad number, especially since it was red. It meant that I was a relatively strong person for only being thirty-two; I was pretty good a several other things. Most people I meet who were the same level as me had an orange tattoo; they didn't have as many talents at other things as I did. So, I guess I had a right to gloat. I had worked my way up so that I didn't have to worry about anyone bothering me.

My goal today was to get my crafting level up. That's why I wanted to make some wool. And making wool meant sheering sheep. And finding sheep meant traveling the long road to Lumbridge, located in the Eastern Kingdom. Well, at least the two kings didn't fight. They lived side by side in a peaceful manner. Convenient about my half-hour walk to Lumbridge was that it wouldn't be a half-hour back in my world. On the contrary, it would only be thirty seconds. Luckily, when Saradomin had made Runescape, he put it on a different time span. One hour here was usually, pretty consistently, one minute on Earth.

I turned to check the time that it was in Runescape. My grandfather clock to the right of me said that it was four-o-clock. And, from looking out my window, I could assume that meant in the afternoon. I turned and headed out of my front foyer, walking over the carpet with the black design patterns, and walked out the front door, into a new day at Runescape.

The wind, as usual, was coming from the west today. The fading afternoon light was really quite lovely. It would be even more fantastic to see it from one of the towers of the castle of the King in Falador, but I had business to attend to. I had a passing glance at the fence that surrounded my house, and then passed between the two smaller houses which stood in front of mine. I came to a big round, flat surface, surrounded by torches. It was made of stone, and at the center of it was a water fountain. This was where I usually got my water. Turning right now, I started on the path that came from this place that would lead me to the bank of Falador.

The path was uneven, but more or less fenced on each side. It was only a minute walk to the bank from where I was, and as I got closer I could see a mob of people, shouting at each other. There was one awesome thing about Runescape. The economy was booming. Everyone at the bank was either selling or buying something from someone else. Some people who were new to the area were begging for free things. I ignored their antics. I really hated going to the bank. I hated the confusion. And the lines to get to the teller were going to be long. I managed to get past the forty or so people having bank sales of their own to the teller. I kindly requested that I see my account in the bank.

There was one fact that I just never could get over about this world. If you were a human, here from earth and didn't live here, you sort of had your own pocket of space that was your own. I mean, quite literally, a hole would appear in the air before you, and there was a storage space for all of your things. Everyone had two areas of space designated to them; one was at the bank, and one sort of followed you around so that you didn't have to carry around all the stuff you find by hand. So the bank-teller asked me for my name, and I told her my Runescape bank account name. It was Lisamd. She smiled and opened up my hole in space. I looked for a few moments, and then withdrew about 150 gp. Gp was the official currency of Runescape. I had about 28000 gp total, which meant I was pretty well off. But, I took some out, and then closed the hole. I thanked the teller, venturing back out through the crowds of people, ignoring the yelling of 'Bank Sale!' and 'Buying Iron Full Helm!' and the like.

I turned left once out of the bank and continued walked along the path, straight ahead. To my right was the garden of Falador, which was really quite a pretty place. There was a small lake with benches and flowers and trees. On my left was an assortment of smaller residences and furnaces for public use, etc. I passed by some people, mostly people who were like me: those who were here in Runescape from Earth.

I was looking at my feet, admiring my boots when I ran into someone. I was startled, looking up. I flashed a sincere, apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry," I managed. "I didn't see you standing there…"

He glared at me, and I caught a quick glance at his wrist. The number **63 **were engraved in a deep red. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Luckily, due to some fact that unless you were in the wilderness, people from Earth couldn't kill other people from Earth, I might have been dead.

"Zamorak will have you," he hissed, walking past you. "You just wait and see."

He walked by me, and I turned to watch him walk the sketchy path, turning to take the road south to Port Sarim. Usually, I would have ignored comments like this. People still used Zamorak's name as a sort of curse, but no one had ever made it as serious as that man had. And he had a high level, which could be even more serious business. I was suddenly really curious as to what he meant, because deep down I thought there was some level of sincerity to what he had said.

I had been noticing for the past few months that people kept on mentioning Zamorak more often than usual. It was more than a curse; I could hear it being whispered in side conversations on the street. I couldn't help but notice that more and more people were taking trips north to the old temple that Zamorak had used as his worship place. And it was becoming an ever growing threat that something evil might be growing in Runescape. This man was my first hands on encounter with anything that might confirm my suspicions, and the suspicions of a few select others I had conversations with.

And spinning wool just didn't seem that important anymore.


End file.
